Fall on the Farm

Bevvy G here has been pretty quiet, partially because I didn’t want to blow it. It being the surprise Maude and I had planned for Smoke’s 60th birthday… which involved Bev flying home late last Friday night, then showing up at the Goldenstein farm early Saturday morning with Maude, Jasper, Margaret, and Norma.

Surprisingly, Smoke and MamaG literally didn’t have a clue we were planning this, and the surprise went off without a hitch! Smoke got to spend the day doing what he loves- farming. And explaining farming to people who have no clue what they’re doing. Like my 5-year-old niece, Norma. And me.

I quickly realized that the most helpful thing I could do was to stay the hell out of the way, so I spent much of my day sitting Bitch in the back of the “good truck”- you know, the one that doesn’t shock you when you honk the horn. (Smoke has 3 farm trucks, you see. That might be another post…) 

Anyway, while I spent my time 100% at the mercy of others to open the truck doors and let me out for air every once in a while, Smoke got to ride around in all of his farm equipment, and we each took turns riding with him. And bringing him snacks. I think the day was a success.

Highs of the weekend:

-Smoke didn’t have another heart attack when surprised

Lows of the weekend:

-Apparently we were too late. If we would’ve arrived just thirty minutes earlier, we would’ve caught Smokey G “clipping his toenails in his underwear in the garage”… Shoot.

Here are some pics for those of you who don’t have a damn clue of what a weekend on the farm actually looks like. (and, yes, I include myself in that group)

OK, this has nothing to do with farming. But that, my friends, is Casey’s breakfast pizza. If ya don’t know, now ya know.

I still can’t figure out why Maude is the favorite… Oh, she can drive a tractor, and she doesn’t have a public blog where she documents all her drunken escapades? Oh. I guess there’s that.

That’s a combine. I do actually know that. I can even answer some very basic questions about it, should any of you have any. Anything too specific gets directed to Smoke. He will begin his (extremely technical) response with, “I’m no expert.” 

That beautiful Mayberry skyline.

This is called a shock. I don’t think it will come as a shock to any of you that I have no idea why this is called a shock. MamaG?

Smoke, in his Sunday finest. 

Just… explaining. All the time.

-Bev